When Wishes Come True: part II

Instructions

“Oliver! How are you?” I asked, excited to see him. He had arrived after two whole weeks! “Oh, um, hi Clara. You know, um, could help me with something?” Oliver asked, uncertainly. “Sure!” “Well, I tried fulfilling a small child’s wish and it backfired,” “Oh, we all make mistakes, at least you tried fulfilling their wish,” I said, waving it off. “But what happened when it backfired?” “Well, its nasty, but I kind of sprouted some ugly wings on my back—that kid wanted angel wings,” Oliver turned around to show a pair of the dirtiest, ugliest pair of wings ever to exist. “Ew—I mean, wow! They are pretty great, aren’t they?” “Stop it Clara, I know they are ridiculous. Help me take them off!” moaned Oliver. “Oh, fine, let me think of something,” I said. I thought for ages, but nothing seemed to come to my mind. Surgery? No. Decapitation. No. I think it was safe to say that my mind was going through some violent options. “Well, how about you fulfill my wish of removing these wings?” “No, we need to have that same child do that, since I was fulfilling her wish,” Oliver grumpily replied. “Well, let’s find her!” “Arkin crossing, seventh lane, house number twelve,” said Oliver. “Arkin crossing, seventh lane, house number twelve—oh wait! Our house is number thirteen!” I was in complete shock. I couldn’t believe we got so lucky! Not even a meter away! “Oliver, we’ve got to go, we have to get rid of those wings—they are really ugly,” “I thought you said great a few moments ago?” “Never mind that now!” I flushed, cheeks red in embarrassment. “Just follow me!” I knocked on the door of the house just next to mine, Oliver hidden inside my handbag. The door was opened by a small kid. “It’s her!” Oliver whispered. “Oh—uh,” I stuttered, turning to the kid. “I’m Clara and I wanted to ask you about your wish of getting angel wings,” “How do you know?” the child asked, frightened. I couldn’t help but noticed how her looks matched to Matilda Wormwood. “Well, I met, uh...” “Santa Claus,” whispered Oliver. “...uh, Santa! He told me about it, so I thought I’d let you know the secret formula since Santa was busy!” “Santa?” the kid asked with fascination in her eyes. Kids really believed anything, best part of them in my opinion. Somehow that made me feel nostalgic. “Yeah! So you have to just wish for the opposite and you’ll get angel wings,” “You are lying, you are not Clara! You are definitely the main elf that works for Santa and that’s why you are so big!” the kid said. Oliver muffled a laugh from behind me. I really wanted to slap him right now—we were here because of HIS mistake! “Umm...there are only five more minutes left for the formula to work! Quick!” I said, trying to ignore the fact that the girl just called me ugly. “Oh, sure! I wish—” “In your mind!” I said, hurriedly. “Oh, sure!” After a minute or so—the girl was really praying hard to get angel wings, I almost feel bad for her—she made her wish. A sound came from Oliver that sounded so much like an, “Aah!” And in a second, Oliver’s disgusting wings were gone! “Oh! Tomorrow you’ll start seeing changes, but, Santa’s calling me! I got to go, bye!” I practically ran out of the house, both Oliver and me grateful that it did not cause any more trouble. The next day, I and Oliver went to tell the girl the truth about her ‘angel wings’ as we felt so guilty. But there was something weird. Just beside my house, was absolutely empty. There was nothing there—as if the house just disappeared into thin air. People we inquired said that it never existed. It was as if no one knew who the kid was or how she came here.